


Lessons Learned

by itsukoii



Category: Initial'L (Band), Lycaon (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Blackmail, Farting, Gangbang, Humiliation, I can't believe I actually wrote this, I kept forgetting about zero and satoshi lmfao, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11702403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsukoii/pseuds/itsukoii
Summary: One little slip-up can end in major consequences, as Hiyuu unfortunately learns with first-hand experience.





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this imagining it took place in this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZo1XoDz6Qc

_brrrt..._

Oh, no.

Hiyuu’s world froze for a minute as he felt and heard the involuntary rumbling of a fart emit from his ass.

"Whose was _that?_ "

"Hii-kun?"

"Hii-kun! Gross!"

"Haha!"

He didn’t mean to. He tried to hold it, but it slipped past him, and the leather seat he was currently sitting on certainly didn’t conceal the matter. His cheeks began to flush as he shielded his face with his sketchbook, attempting to protect himself from the various comments and teasing he could hear coming from his friends.

"I’m sorry!" Was all he could say for himself.

This was so embarrassing, Hiyuu wished he could _die._

He tried to laugh it off, but to no avail. Visibly, his body was shaking with chuckles—chuckles that meant nothing. In fact, he could almost feel tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

Everything was being recorded, too. Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. _The editors better delete this, or so help me..._ Hiyuu thought angrily.

"Oh, it stinks!" Satoshi, currently seated beside him, exclaimed, laughing and fanning his hand as he did so. Hiyuu could also hear the rest of the band laughing, all pausing their drawings.

"Shut up!"

Eventually, the laughter died down, and to Hiyuu’s relief, his bandmates resumed their artworks, as did Hiyuu.

And then... Fuck.

Hiyuu groaned as he felt his stomach rumbling in a way that wasn’t normal, and he could feel pressure in his lower abdomen. Fuckfuckfuck. If he could just make it to another room, or the bathroom and let it out there—

"Hiyuu, are you okay?" asked Yuuki, seated opposite of him.

"Um, yeah, I’ll just be right back—"

Luck was certainly not on his side that day.

_brrrrrt!_

This one was even louder, and it lasted longer than the previous. Hiyuu groaned and gripped his bloated stomach as he let it out, his face beet red and his head hanging low in shame as he failed to stop it.

"I-it must’ve been something I ate..." Was all he could muster up. Whether it was true or not, he couldn’t exactly recall—but it made sense, because he never farted this much, _especially_ not in front of other people, and he’s rarely ever been unable to control it.

"Jesus, Hiyuu! You’re full of it!" Laughed Ichiro, followed by the laughter of everybody else, and _again_ , Hiyuu just wanted the floor to swallow him up whole.

Before Hiyuu could endure any more embarrassment, he stood up and walked away to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking himself away from _what the fuck just happened_ for a second.

He sighed as he stared at his disheveled reflection in the mirror, his fingers tightening anxiously around the corners of the sink as it stared back at him. He was alone with his blushing face and the sound of his heartbeat going at a million miles an hour.

Hiyuu just needed a breather from the absolute humiliation he just created for himself. After a few minutes of alone time and getting back to his senses, Hiyuu made his way back out into the main room.

Before he even entered the room, Hiyuu could sense a strange atmosphere forming—or maybe that was just him and his anxieties.

When he walked in, he noticed that all of his bandmates were staring at him, each one wearing a peculiar expression that Hiyuu couldn’t decipher. Not only that, but the camera man had disappeared.

Ichiro was the first one to speak up, sensing Hiyuu's confusion. "We told him we’d finish filming the video another day."

Yuuki was next. "And us as bandmates," he gestured to Ichiro, Satoshi, and Zero, "discussed a favour we’d gladly execute for you."

"We’ll make sure the footage of the… incident, will be deleted," Ichiro concluded.

At their words, Hiyuu couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“On one condition,” Yuuki picked back up from where Ichiro left off, a slight smirk evident in his full lips.

Hiyuu tensed immensely at the exchange happening before him. He watched as Zero and Satoshi remained silent, but had on masks of what Hiyuu could only identify as… lust?

“W-what's the condition?” Hiyuu asked nervously. He doubted he'd be let off easily, and although he was willing to do nearly anything to ensure the footage was deleted, the mischievous expressions and auras of his bandmates was beginning to inflict fear into him.

The sinful glares exchanged by all of his bandmates was enough to run a shiver up and down Hiyuu's spine as he stood under their burning gazes.

“The condition is,” Ichiro started, “that we’ll only delete the footage if you get on your knees and suck all of our cocks. Now.”

Holy _shit._

Hiyuu stood like a deer in headlights, his eyes wide and his jaw agape. Did he… did he hear that right?

His bandmates broke out in fits of laughter that only degraded Hiyuu further. They were laughing at him, just as they had done… during the previous incident.

Fuck.

 _Fine._ He’d prove to his bandmates that he wasn’t just some piece of nothing that existed only to be made fun of. He’d prove to them he wasn’t stupid. He’d prove his worth. He didn’t care—and plus, the stupid footage would be deleted. That key piece of information alone was enough for him to submit.

Hiyuu tried not to let his voice break as he spoke. “Deal.”

Ichiro crossed his arms as a smirk etched itself into his face. “Good, good. Now,” he said as the rest of the band stood up from their seats, “get on your knees.”

Hiyuu obliged.

Not long after, Ichiro, Satoshi, Yuuki, and Zero were standing around Hiyuu in a protective half-circle. God, the latter had never felt more fucking ashamed. He caught every smirk and every grin and every glance exchanged by his bandmates.

He was humiliated, but he couldn’t back down. His chest tightened as he waited for further instructions.

“Zero and Yuuki are going to put their cocks in your pretty little mouth first. As they do that, you’ll use your hands to pleasure Satoshi and I. Understand?” Hiyuu caught on to the fact that Ichiro was the alpha male here. He nodded submissively as the drummer barked commands at him.

“I understand,” Hiyuu spoke in a quiet, broken voice, refusing to meet the eyes of any of his bandmates. Instead, being eye-level with their fabric-covered crotches, he tried to get acquainted with them, knowing he’d be meeting what was underneath the fabric very soon.

“Good. Now get to work.”

Hiyuu could do nothing but nod and begin pulling down the pants of Yuuki and Zero, who were currently the closest to his face.

Soon, both of their half-hard cocks were exposed into the vicinity of Hiyuu, and Hiyuu swallowed his saliva thickly. _Do it for the footage,_ he told himself.

For the deleted footage.

He began to stroke them timidly with his hands at first, unsure of what else to do. He stroked them before braving enough to deliver a lick to the head of each cock, earning groans from the owners.

Ichiro nodded at the unfolding scene with approval. “Alright. Now use only your mouth on them as you use your hands on us,” he instructed, gesturing to himself and Satoshi.

Hiyuu didn’t waste a moment in doing as he was told. He could tell Ichiro was powerful, and Hiyuu didn’t want to find out what would happen if he disobeyed the former. With Satoshi on his left and Ichiro on his right, Hiyuu reached his hands out, only to be met with cock instead of the fabric he expected, and he jumped. Apparently, they had already impatiently whipped them out.

The jump earned a chuckle from both Ichiro and Satoshi, while Yuuki and Zero were both moaning as Hiyuu did his best to pleasure them. He’d lick along their shafts, he'd suck on their heads, dip his tongue in their slits and suck the cocks into his mouth. If the sounds they were making were any indicator, Hiyuu was doing well.

At the same time, he had now begun stroking Satoshi and Ichiro in his hands, feeling them grow stiffer by the second.

As he sucked and he stroked, Hiyuu tried not to let the tears threatening to prick at his eyes fall. He tried not to focus on the pure humiliation he was being faced with, the degradation and the abuse. He just had to focus on the tasks at hand and mouth and tough it out. It’d be over soon.

The room was filled with nothing but the sounds of moans, groans and gasps as Hiyuu worked to pleasure the four other men.

“Wow,” Satoshi mused, his darkened eyes looming over Hiyuu, causing Hiyuu to shiver, “he’s good at that. His hands are talented, but his mouth looks to be even more so…”

Yuuki nodded, glancing at Zero as they both moaned. “Oh, he’s so good. Such a little cockslut—I never knew you had this side to you, Hiyuu.” Zero nodded in agreement as he began dragging his cock around the surface of Hiyuu’s soft lips and cheeks, leaving trails of slimy pre-cum as he did so.

Before Hiyuu could react with a remark or denial, the two cocks he once had in his mouth and on his face, were being pulled away.

“Our turn,” Ichiro demanded as he and Satoshi switched places with Yuuki and Zero. The saliva left on Yuuki and Zero’s cocks allowed Hiyuu to stroke them with ease. He used it as a distraction from Ichiro beginning to roughly fuck his mouth, only to have him pull out and have Satoshi force his way in merely seconds later. The constant adjusting of Hiyuu’s jaw was making it sore, and he could see his vision beginning to cloud up; he was hitting his limit.

“Oi, Satoshi,” Ichiro whispered loud enough for Hiyuu to pick up, but in the next moment Ichiro was covering his mouth with his hand, whispering into Satoshi’s ear so only said guitarist could hear. “Thrust back into his throat; make him gag and choke, and then pull your dick out so he can cough.”

With Hiyuu still unaware, Satoshi smirked as he understood Ichiro’s intentions. In the next moment, he was latching his hand onto Hiyuu’s soft, purple hair, and thrusting his cock in _hard_.

Hiyuu choked and gagged as he was taken by surprise, his throat unused to the sudden intrusion as his airway was blocked and his reflexes were activating. And then Satoshi was pulling his cock out of Hiyuu’s mouth, allowing the bassist enough room to engage his body in a fit of rough coughs, gasping for air.

Not only did Hiyuu let out coughs.

The jerking motions of his body and the pressure from the coughing, gagging, and choking also forced out something that made the rest of the band break out in hysterics as they overshadowed him.

Hiyuu’s eyes spilled their tears and he began sobbing worthlessly as he realized he’d done it again.

He’d farted.

He’d farted _loudly_. And not just once.

The coughs didn’t subside and neither did the farts as Hiyuu could feel each and every burst of gas being expelled from his body. He groaned, placing his hands on his still-bloated abdomen as it slowly emptied itself, sensing the warmth of the farts cradle his ass under his jeans. In truth, he’d never felt more _disgusting_.

Hiyuu cried as the sounds of loud, taunting laughter filled his ears, and the scent of his own _humiliation_ met his nostrils.

_brrrrt, brrrrrt, brrrrrrrt…_

It just wouldn’t fucking end. He couldn’t control it, he couldn’t stop it. Not as he coughed and convulsed and was degraded under the power of his own bandmates.

“Ha, Hiyuu! You really are full of it!” Ichiro scoffed as did the rest of the band, and at this point Hiyuu was tasting the salt of his own tears and the snot running from his nose. He was an absolute _mess_ , choking on air as he sobbed pathetically. “And god, does it _stink!_ ”

“S-stop… Stop it!” Hiyuu begged and pleaded, his self-worth crushed and depleted into _nothing_.

His bandmates laughed mercilessly, all holding their cocks and stroking them tauntingly above Hiyuu. “You want that footage deleted, don’t you?” Yuuki inquired, leaning his body down until his face was just above eye-level with Hiyuu, staring down at him menacingly. Hiyuu nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze.

“What was that? Look at me when I’m talking to you, you piece of shit.” Yuuki gripped Hiyuu’s hair roughly, forcing the latter to look him dead set in the eyes. Hiyuu sniffled and his lip quivered as he faced Yuuki, then tensed when Yuuki gently wiped his thumb across Hiyuu’s cheek, smearing the bassist’s already-running makeup.

“Pathetic,” Yuuki scoffed, harshly letting go of Hiyuu’s hair and straightening back up. Ichiro crossed his arms and smirked with vile approval of the scene that had just unfolded before him, whilst Hiyuu had been sobbing so violently he was beginning to hyperventilate.

“After all that, you must be empty, right?” Ichiro sneered, his tone laced with false innocence, staring down at the miserable image of Lycaon’s usually so bold and so confident bassist. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of someone being filled with so much…” Ichiro paused as he pondered for a suitable word, “repugnance.”

Hiyuu couldn’t even manage to speak a single word. He could only listen to every nasty comment thrown at him and accept what a disgusting, miserable, and appalling piece of shit he was.

And then Zero, who had kept quiet during the majority of what had been going on, whispered to Ichiro. Hiyuu couldn’t hear, just as he hadn't been able to when Ichiro spoke to Satoshi earlier on—and, to be frank, Hiyuu was afraid. Afraid of what he didn’t know, and afraid of what these four men were capable of. He just sobbed and shrunk under the burning gazes of his bandmates.

“Oh, that’s _good_ ,” Ichiro approved, satisfied as he listened to what Zero had in mind. It was _perfect_.

Soon, Yuuki and Satoshi were invited into the private huddle, Zero and Ichiro enlightening them on what was being planned.

And yet Hiyuu still didn’t have a goddamn _clue_ as he kneeled on the ground, covered in his own tears, snot, and smeared, wet makeup. He couldn’t do anything but wait with dreaded anticipation as his eyes began to burn from how much he had been fucking crying.

“Get on the table, Hiyuu. Lay on your back.” Satoshi, Yuuki and Zero were biting their lips and holding back snickers as Ichiro spoke.

Hiyuu, visibly frightened, hesitated at first—but then came to his senses and obeyed despite his fear, because he knew it’d end up a whole lot worse if he didn’t do as he was told.

The bassist nodded, and without further question, he made his way over to the table and, after clearing it of abandoned sketchbooks, laid down on his back.

He felt more exposed than he had all evening, pressing his thighs together self-consciously as the rest of his bandmates started walking over to where he was laid.

“So obedient and so submissive. Just how I like it,” Yuuki murmured, tracing a lithe finger down Hiyuu's trembling thigh and smirking when Hiyuu tensed. He continued to leave fleeting touches along Hiyuu's leg while Satoshi and Zero took their places standing on either side of Hiyuu, their crotches level with Hiyuu's head and their cocks close to his face.

And then Hiyuu was letting out a wince, writhing uncomfortably as he felt a hand rest on his stomach before patting it softly. “Yuuki, n-no,” he pleaded uselessly, soon realizing the situation. He attempted to push Yuuki’s hand away, weakly—but was held down by the flanking forces of Satoshi and Zero.

“Ah, he still feels so bloated,” Yuuki spoke sweetly as he observed Hiyuu’s current state, grinning as he did so. A grin so sick it made Hiyuu’s insides churn, yet he could do nothing but obey and stay put.

Ichiro, now standing in between Hiyuu’s lifted—and forcefully parted by the strong hands of the drummer—legs, nodded in acknowledgement. “How bloated?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“Please, _stop_ —!”

But before Hiyuu could struggle further and possibly escape, Ichiro’s strong hand was pressing itself onto Hiyuu’s belly, and in the next moment, Hiyuu’s red eyes spilled their tears once more as he felt the anterior of Ichiro’s pelvis becoming flush with his ass. Whether the act was intentional or not, the bassist didn’t know—but Hiyuu _did_ know that one more hard push to his stomach would end up in bad news for the both of them if Ichiro kept in position, and Hiyuu sobbed at the thought. He was still filled to the fucking _brim_ with gas.

“ _Jesus,_ you cry too much,” Ichiro taunted, and the rest of the band’s laughter followed up the demeaning comment. “What are you afraid of, hmm?”

A pat to Hiyuu’s belly.

Hiyuu winced, yet didn’t reply. He refused to meet the eyes of any of his bandmates.

“Tell Ichiro what you’re afraid of, Hiyuu.” Another pat to Hiyuu’s gut, this time delivered by Yuuki.

Those bastards. They knew, but they wanted to hear it straight from Hiyuu’s mouth.

Reluctantly, through tears and a broken voice, Hiyuu spoke. “I… I’m…” A sniffle. “Afraid I’ll… fart,” he finished in a whisper, his words laced with absolute shame and remorse. _Fuck._ Hiyuu really was pathetic. Couldn’t accept what was, nor stand up for himself. Merely a useless plaything to be mocked and belittled.

“Yes, I would be too if I were you.”

And then Yuuki was pushing down on Hiyuu’s bloated gut. Mercilessly.

“No! Don’t!”

…And Hiyuu farted. Right up against Ichiro.

“Oh, Hiyuu! Fucking _gross!_ ” exclaimed Ichiro, quickly backing away from Hiyuu as soon as soon as he felt the warmth and vibration of the bassist’s fart against his groin.

Although, he’d be lying if he said the vibration didn’t induce a twitch in his erection.

But overall, it was _disgusting_.

And Hiyuu knew it. He placed his hands over his ass as if in an attempt to contain what had already been expelled, an attempt to make himself believe he didn’t just fart, _again_ , in front of his bandmates—who were all laughing at him, even Ichiro, who was fanning his hand to get rid of the putrid scent.

One would think after going through this for the umpteenth time, Hiyuu would have gotten used to the embarrassment and the humiliation.

But he hadn’t.

Hiyuu was crying, he was sobbing, he was now holding his poor, _still fucking bloated_ stomach, and he was enduring Satoshi and Zero’s painting of his tears with their cocks, whilst crumbling under the taunting laughter of Ichiro and Yuuki.

“That one was quite weak in comparison to his others, wasn’t it?” Yuuki noted, again rubbing Hiyuu’s tummy. “I still don’t think he’s completely empty.”

Ichiro hummed. “I think you’re correct.”

In the next moment, it was the sensation of Ichiro’s strong hands gripping harshly at Hiyuu’s hips that made the bassist yelp, and then Zero was shoving his cock into Hiyuu’s mouth to silence him. The sudden intrusion sparked tears into Hiyuu’s eyes, but was physically unable to resist as his bandmates forced him into full submission.

Satoshi then guided Hiyuu’s hands towards his dick, forcing Hiyuu to stroke him as the purple-haired man used his other to pump Zero’s cock. Drool hung grossly from Hiyuu’s lips and he choked on dick and the salt of tears that had weaseled their way into his mouth.

As if Hiyuu wasn’t being used enough, Ichiro began rubbing Hiyuu’s jeans-clad ass with his hand. Hiyuu tensed at the touch and it elicited another sob from his body.

The hand continued to trail along his plump ass and thighs, Hiyuu trembling—and before long, that same hand was undoing the fly of his jeans.

“N-no!”

“Yes, Hiyuu,” soothed Yuuki, his hand now taking the place of Ichiro’s hand at Hiyuu’s thigh and ass as Ichiro began pulling down the hems of both Hiyuu’s jeans and boxers.

Before Hiyuu knew it, the fabrics clothing his southern regions were being discarded and thrown carelessly onto the floor.

“So he didn’t shit himself during any of that. It’s surprising, to say the least.” Ichiro prodded Hiyuu’s now-exposed asshole as he spoke tauntingly.

 _Shut up!_ Hiyuu yelled inside his head, so desperately wanting to cry aloud, but he knew better than to respond with anything other than the obeying of commands. He kept silent besides the sobs that continued to escape him, despite the fact that his lower half was now on absolute display. The cold breeze made his skin crawl and his body shiver, and he clenched his thighs together, in a self-concious attempt to hide the pathetic prick that lay limp between his legs. Of course, such an action didn’t go unnoticed, and Ichiro was soon prying Hiyuu’s legs open with his hands easily.

“Absolutely pathetic.” Yuuki poked Hiyuu’s cock, his face full of disgust as he did so.

Hiyuu, now with a mouthful of Satoshi’s cock, flinched at the touch—but he knew Yuuki’s words were true.

Pathetic, worthless, good-for-nothing and miserable. The synonyms rang around his mind and he could almost taste their meanings. He knew what he was and could do nothing about it.

“Mmph!” Hiyuu gasped against Satoshi’s cock when he felt something cold and slimy touch his exposed asshole. “Don’t—don’t touch there!”

Oh, _no._

“So, Hiyuu. I was thinking: I’m going to plug up your ass with my cock, let your… gas, build up, and by the time I’m finished it’ll be built up enough to be ripped in one sitting. Sounds fucking disgusting, but I’m doing _you_ a favour here, alright?”

What the _fuck_ , was all Hiyuu could think about as Ichiro’s words echoed in his ears. How sick were these people, these _friends_ he saw nearly daily and have known for years?

And yet Hiyuu didn’t, _couldn’t_ , fight back.

Even if he wanted to retaliate, what felt like Ichiro’s finger was already penetrating him, and Hiyuu could only submit.

“He’s taking it well,” observed Yuuki.

Ichiro thrusted in another finger impatiently, not caring how well Hiyuu had adjusted to the first one, and earned a pained gasp from the bassist. The stretch burned, but Hiyuu took it without a word and fought through the pain of the intrusion.

It wasn’t like he’d never had anything in his ass before, but it _had_ been a while, and Ichiro was far more forceful than Hiyuu had been with himself.

But soon, his muscles relaxed and he adjusted to the stretch of two fingers. Ichiro scissored them before adding a third, impatiently thrusting them in and out for a minute or two before retracting them fully.

“Alright, let’s get this shit-show on the road…” Ichiro paused. “No, I take it back, don’t you dare fucking shit on me.”

Hiyuu shrunk under Ichiro’s words. Jesus _Christ_ , he didn’t even consider that possibility.

 _Please, the farts were enough,_ Hiyuu begged to who knows what. His mental health would surely crumble if he were to do something like that.

And then Hiyuu was wincing as he heard the unzipping of Ichiro’s pants, and crying again once he felt the head of the drummer’s thick cock breach his entrance.

“No condom?” Yuuki asked, his fingers touching Hiyuu’s ass curiously and scooping up some of the lube, lathering it over Ichiro’s bare cock.

“W-what?” Hiyuu fretted, taking his mouth off of what was Zero’s cock now.

The head of Ichiro’s cock buried itself in Hiyuu before Ichiro replied, ignoring the bassist. “No. I was thinking of cumming inside and letting him fart it out.”

“Ichiro! No!”

“Hiyuu, shut your fucking mouth. Ichiro, that’s a disgustingly great idea. I like it. Proceed,” Yuuki affirmed, watching with intent as Ichiro plowed Hiyuu with the rest of his length, ignoring every protest and cry that sounded from Hiyuu.

 _Do it for the footage!_ Hiyuu reminded himself again and again, needing something, _anything,_ to power him through this.

“Ahh, he’s tight,” Ichiro moaned as he sheathed himself fully into the poor, purple-haired bassist. Said purple-haired man was soon forced back onto Satoshi’s dick, sucking hard as he winced with pain. The burning of the stretch was so intense Hiyuu thought his sphincters were going to tear open.

While he was hesitant before, Hiyuu now took Zero’s cock in his hand and deep-throated Satoshi as well as he could—as a distraction from what was happening down south.

Hiyuu also noticed Yuuki jerking his cock above Hiyuu’s abdomen, and he whined with envy. Hiyuu’s cock was still laying limp and pathetic between his legs, ignored and neglected. But he knew better than to ask for the same care Yuuki was giving his own cock.

Instead, Hiyuu could only yelp as Ichiro pulled his hips back and snapped them forward with enough force to make Hiyuu choke and retch on Satoshi’s cock.

At least this time Hiyuu had something stopping him from farting again, right?

Although, the impact of the convulsion definitely didn’t leave Hiyuu without the brooding pressure of gas in his stomach. It was building, just as Ichiro said it would, and Hiyuu had no choice but to let it do so.

Soon, it was beginning to cramp, and Hiyuu groaned, placing one hand on his bloated stomach in an attempt to comfort it as Ichiro grabbed his hips and roughly thrusted into him, earning pained gasps from Hiyuu as well as the sounds of discomfort.

“Ahh, what’s wrong, Hiyuu?” Yuuki asked sweetly, moving Hiyuu’s hand aside so he could place his upon the bassist’s stomach as well. “Feeling bloated? Full? Like you need to release what’s built up?”

The laugh Yuuki let out after he spoke was enough to bring Hiyuu to even more tears and sobs as he removed a cock from his mouth—whose it was, he’d lost track at this point. “Please stop,” he, once again, begged uselessly, knowing he’d get no such treatment from any of his sadistic bandmates.

“You say that, but you want the footage deleted, don’t you?” Ichiro panted as he increased the strength of his grip on Hiyuu’s hips, forcefully smacking his pelvis quickly against Hiyuu’s ass and eliciting lewd slapping sounds from the rough contact.

Hiyuu’s ass stung and his stomach ached terribly. “Y-yes,” was all he could get himself to mutter through clenched teeth as his body was rocked back and forth on the table from the brunt of Ichiro’s thrusts. God, each thrust made Hiyuu feel like he was going to explode. He was _so_ full, and the invasive cock inside of him painfully kept him plugged up. Hiyuu just needed to fucking fart.

“Oh, god, that’s hot. Keep going, Ichiro, I’m close,” Yuuki moaned, stroking his erection faster, the pre-cum dribbling down onto Hiyuu’s pale, expanded tummy.

Meanwhile, Hiyuu was reaching his breaking point. “Nnnghh… It hurts, it hurts so fucking much.” He gave an agonized moan when Ichiro scoffed and pressed a hand into Hiyuu’s stomach, followed by Yuuki doing the same.

“Ah!” Hiyuu heard Zero gasp as the guitarist pumped his cock faster, its tip leaking strings of clear pre-cum before it spluttered full droplets of semen directly onto Hiyuu’s face. Hiyuu, unexpecting, had his mouth hanging open prior to Zero’s ejaculation, and nearly half of the total volume made itself past his parted lips. Hiyuu retched again at that, the salty taste and slimy texture making him gag.

“Swallow it,” Yuuki ordered.

And so, whilst reluctant, Hiyuu oblidged, and gulped the thick fluids down.

Yuuki smirked with sick satisfaction before his face twisted up and his mouth parted in a moan. “Fuck, I’m close too.”

Before Yuuki could cum, Satoshi was next, painting Hiyuu’s face with his sticky seed. Hiyuu’s mouth was closed this time, but he shifted uncomfortably as he felt his face become coated with the slimy mixture of Zero and Satoshi’s cum. It dripped down his nose, onto his lips, was splattered on his forehead and in his hair.

“How disgusting,” Yuuki mocked before he emptied his load onto Hiyuu’s stomach, letting out a loud moan as he did so.

Which meant only Ichiro was left.

“Fucking cum dumpster,” said man belittled before he, too, was convulsing with the force of his orgasm as he came hard inside of Hiyuu’s ass, the white excrement dousing Hiyuu’s inner walls.

Hiyuu cried.

The sperm on his face dribbled past his lips and it stained his tongue.

He sobbed, he groaned, he was absolutely humiliated and without a single sense of pride.

“Ahhhh, I haven’t cum inside somebody in such a long time.”

Zero and Satoshi removed themselves from beside Hiyuu’s face and made their way to stand beside Ichiro, clearly curious as to what was going to happen next. Yuuki soon join them as the four men waited for the finale.

Much to all of their anticipation, Hiyuu could feel Ichiro slowly pulling out his softening cock from Hiyuu’s ass, the bassist cringing and snivelling as he could do nothing but hold his legs high up in the air and allow his dirty ass to be seen by all. He closed his eyes and braced himself for what was next.

As foreseen, Hiyuu’s bloated tummy emptied itself without issue once his ass was no longer plugged up.

_prrrrrbbbbt!_

There it was. The longest, wettest fart escaped Hiyuu as he held his arms around his stomach—momentarily ignoring the spunk Yuuki had left there—and sobbed worthlessly as he felt the wetness of the disgusting mixture of semen and lube dribble out of his ass, being forced out by the violent rumblings of Hiyuu’s broken wind.

_prrrrrrt… brrrrrrt…_

Shorter farts continued to follow, Hiyuu’s stomach slowly but surely becoming less and less bloated, for which he was indeed thankful. He wanted this to end. He wanted to leave, he wanted to go home, and pretend none of this ever fucking happened.

“That’s fucking rancid. And god, it smells so bad! And it won’t end!” Zero exclaimed, covering his nose and turning away, while Yuuki, Ichiro and Satoshi kept their eyes on the scene before them.

“It’s disgusting as hell, alright. You’re welcome, you piece of shit,” Ichiro spat as Hiyuu’s farts finally began to die out and the sperm/lube concoction slowed its flow.

“I think he deserves to have that footage deleted, don’t you?” Yuuki tapped his finger on his chin, leaning down to inspect the aftermath of Hiyuu. “And look, Ichi. He didn’t shit on you. That must get bonus points.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t.” Ichiro pulled his pants back up, as did everyone else. But Hiyuu was left laying on the table, unable to get himself to move or even _think_ about _anything_. His mind was utterly blank and his muscles were weak.

“But listen here, Hiyuu,” Satoshi spoke up, “tell anyone about this and we’ll release the footage.”

Vigorously, Hiyuu nodded. No way in hell would he be telling a single _soul_ about this, released footage or not.

And then Yuuki, Ichiro, Satoshi and Zero collected their things and silently made their way out of the room, forgetting about Hiyuu and leaving him alone on the table to regain his bearings—or rather, what he had left of them.

_prrrrt_

As expected, one more fart didn’t fail to weasel its way out of Hiyuu’s ass, and the man lay absolutely _dumbfounded_.

Lesson learned: never fart in front of bandmates.


End file.
